The Rail
Fiction, nonfiction, and poetry from our favorite emerging writers
3/22/2021 0 Comments maison du buerre, by jeanette wallDear Readers, We were so excited and overwhelmed by the poems we received for our upcoming Mundane Joys anthology that we had to share a few on The Rail! This week brings us a sensual ode to everyone's favorite food from Brooklyn-based writer jeanette wall. Mundane Joys celebrates the less-obvious triumphs of every day life. Each copy comes with a custom Derailleur Press tea blend and seed paper to grow a garden of your own. Visit our store to reserve yours today! Happy reading! - Derailleur Press maison du buerre i lick you off my fingers, my lips parting into a gratifying, cockslut smile i come to your house to feel full, satisfied, and pretend i am your french whore, whipping you in the kitchen, elevating anything we can find into a bizarre, sensuous treat and fuck, you make it easy, pushing me further into my pleasure as every last bit of my fatty hands are covered in you – i close my eyes without even noticing you are the most delicate of food among barbarous nations, and i am the multitudes that gratify your existence as you meld along the bottom of my tongue i lean over a regrettable piece of plastic, piled with toast, and marvel later at the little bits of you on the cutting board, the tablecloth, between my legs on my chair at the dining table and even the evidence of you that, days later, i manage to find in the folds of my sheets it reminds me of spreading you open and shut, teasing at your flesh with enough of you, even the most wretched, horrible crumbs of life are worth devouring and goddammit, my love, i am famished jeanette wall (she/they) is a writer, painter, and music industry professional in New York. She lives and works in Brooklyn with her two cat sons, Cupid and Toby. Jeanette has been teaching herself to cook, and has a tattoo of a stick of butter on her arm (among other things).
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